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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657440">I Can’t Control Myself (Because I Don’t Know How)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelicerata/pseuds/chelicerata'>chelicerata</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the one where Peter’s a vampire [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(...technically), Begging, Blood Drinking, Denial, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Vampire Peter Parker, Vampires, but it's loving freaky vampire sex, doing it for science, freaky vampire sex, honor bondage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:00:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelicerata/pseuds/chelicerata</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>If they have sex while in a lab, that makes it scientific. Those are just the rules, and who’s Tony to argue?</i>
</p><p>Peter’s worried about losing control. Tony proposes an experiment.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the one where Peter’s a vampire [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Can’t Control Myself (Because I Don’t Know How)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As requested, the sequel to ‘You Put the Spike in My Heart’ where they actually have weird vampire sex. If you haven’t read it, all you really need to know is that Peter’s a newly turned vampire and Tony’s his incredibly eager food source… but like, in a mostly canon compliant way. </p><p>Title is, a little too fittingly, from MCR’s ‘Blood’.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Tony had ever thought about a hypothetical romantic relationship with Peter Parker – which he emphatically had not, obviously – he would have taken it as a given that he would self-sabotage it into oblivion within a few weeks, tops. He’s surprised as anyone that’s he’s made it three whole months without screwing anything up.  </p><p>It hasn’t been perfect, of course, especially with Peter’s new all-liquid diet. Dinner dates are out (unless dates where Tony is also dinner count), not that they’re ready to set off that bomb yet, either way. May Parker’s already currently not speaking to him, and that’s just because of the whole ‘nephew being turned into a vampire’ thing – god forbid when she finds out about the <em>other </em>thing. Tony’s not looking forward to that nuclear explosion. Or the one in the press. Or the one from his friends. Or… any of it.  Not for his own sake – as if his name hasn’t been dragged through the mud in a hundred worse ways already, most of them even true – but for Peter’s.</p><p>Mostly, though, it’s been amazing. Better than he could have hoped, back when he wasn’t thinking about it. He’s continually struck by how <em>easy </em>it can be, miraculously, in a way so few things in his life have ever been. How little some things had changed, which maybe says something about their previous relationship.</p><p>How when Peter can’t stay over, he’ll still call Tony at three in the morning and talk himself to sleep.</p><p>And the sex is – well. Any lack of experience on Peter’s end is made up for by sheer, boundless enthusiasm, not to the mention the literally superhuman strength, endurance, flexibility, and lack of refractory period.</p><p>(The blowjobs are a little… nerve wracking, but Tony’s always liked living on the edge.)</p><p>All in all, there’s really only one main hurdle standing between them and domestic bliss, and it’s one Tony had never even considered. What a failure of the imagination that had been.</p><p> </p><p>Earlier tonight they had fucked, Peter pushing him down into the pillows and riding him slow and easy. Afterwards Peter had curled up on top of Tony, pressed his face into Tony’s neck, and started to feed, content and lazy. Tony had started to doze.</p><p>Peter doesn’t respond the first time Tony asks him to stop, doesn’t respond to a gentle tug on his hair.</p><p>“Shit, not again,” Tony says to himself.</p><p>Eventually, Tony has to say <em>Peter </em>in a loud voice and slap his cheek a little to make Peter pull off. When he does his eyes are hazy, blood-drunk, like they always are for a few minutes after feeding.</p><p>When he finally comes back to himself, he looks horrified. Again.</p><p>This, ladies and gentlemen, is the problem.</p><p>“I’m <em>so sorry, </em>Tony- I don’t mean to, it’s just… it’s like a drug, kind of – my mind goes so fuzzy that I can’t-”</p><p>“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tony says, pulling him back down. “I told you, we’ll work on it. I’m not exactly able to judge anyone for bad behavior under the influence. I ever tell you about the time I peed in the suit?”</p><p>“I’ve made you almost pass out <em>three times-</em>”</p><p>Trying to reassure him by telling him that Tony has had multiple sexual partners accidentally make him pass out before does not, weirdly, make Peter look any less worried, though it does make him look worried in a slightly different way. </p><p>“They <em>what?</em>”</p><p>“Look, I did some weird things in the nineties, erotic asphyxiation was in- this isn’t helping.”</p><p>Peter wordlessly shakes his head as he slumps back down on top of Tony.</p><p>“I just,” he says, after a long pause. “I’m always hungry. I want it all the time. There’s always part of me that’s thinking about-”</p><p>He shudders.</p><p>“I think I can feel myself losing control, sometimes,” he confesses.</p><p>“You’re really worried about that, aren’t you?” Tony asks. Peter’s head is nestled on his shoulder, fingers delicately tracing the frankly horrific mass of scar tissue in the center of Tony’s chest. One of the unexpected upsides of a super-powered bed partner is that for the first time in years he can, occasionally, quiet the habitual terror in his brain long enough to fall asleep without wearing the nanite housing unit. (It’s still within arm’s reach on the nightstand, of course, but that’s just being prepared.)</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Peter says. “I could really hurt you.” He shifts his head upwards to meet Tony’s gaze. Peter like this, upset and earnest, makes the words coming out of his mouth seem absurd – makes it easy to forget that, even before Life Changing Bite 2: Vampire Boogaloo, he absolutely could have.</p><p>But, well-</p><p>“Hmm. Bet you can’t,” Tony says, suddenly inspired.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I bet,” Tony says, warming up to it, sitting up and jostling Peter a little, “you couldn’t actually hurt me, even if we tried. Even if I pushed you right to the edge.”</p><p>Peter blinks.</p><p>“…Like a sex thing,” he says. “Are you trying to distract me with sex?” He looks insultingly dubious.</p><p>“No. Maybe. Look, that part’s a nice bonus,” Tony says. “But- seriously. I don’t think you have enough faith in yourself, and I think it’d help you see that you’d never actually be able to hurt me. So. We could do a little experiment on your self control. If you want.”</p><p>“Experiment like how the time you made me come six times in a row was an experiment, or…” Peter’s mouth twitches upwards when he says it, though, and there’s an intrigued gleam in his eye. He’s always easy for the word <em>experiment</em>.</p><p>“Did we or did we not gain valuable data from that?” Tony defends. He thinks an increasingly encyclopedic knowledge of Peter’s kinks certainly counts as valuable. (There may have been a spreadsheet involved.)</p><p>Peter smiles, but says: “But if my self control does fail-”</p><p>“Then I get to field test the upgraded grappling strength of the suit. Win-win.” When Peter still looks a little skeptical, he says “Pete. I trust you. That’s the whole point.”</p><p>“Okay,” Peter says. “What’s your very legitimate scientific experiment?”</p><p>“Tell me if you’re not into it. No hard feelings.”</p><p>Tony tells him. Peter’s into it. Looks like the spreadsheet was worth it, after all.</p><p> </p><p>A few days later, when Peter’s hungry again, Tony takes him down to the lab.</p><p>If they have sex while in a lab, that makes it scientific. Those are just the rules, and who’s Tony to argue?</p><p>Here’s something Tony has learned about Peter over the past three months: he’s fucking insatiable. He’s willing to try anything once, he’s into almost everything he tries, and he’s <em>really </em>into Tony walking him right up to the edge of his limits and then gently, gently pushing him over.</p><p>Here’s something Tony’s learned about <em>himself</em>: he really, really likes being the one pushing Peter there. It was, in retrospect, maybe not the most unexpected discovery.</p><p>Peter starts kissing him the moment they’re in the lab, already keyed up. Tony indulges for a moment, then grabs him gently by the jaw and pulls him back.</p><p>“Self-control,” he says lightly. “Right?”</p><p>He digs in his fingers, just a little, because he can. Peter shivers and flushes, very slightly.</p><p>“Right,” he says.                                              </p><p>Oh, yeah. This is going to work out just fine.</p><p>“Hands on the lab bench. Don’t let go.”</p><p>Peter walks over and leans back against the stainless steel lab bench, putting his arms behind him and grabbing it with both hands, coincidentally showing off those arm muscles to wonderful effect. He looks equal parts apprehensive and thrilled. </p><p>He’s a fucking vision, on display for Tony and Tony alone. Staring at Tony with huge, dark eyes, completely trusting, waiting to be led wherever Tony takes him. It’s incredibly hot and a little terrifying.</p><p>Tony takes a deep breath and picks up an x-acto knife, staring at it for a moment, wondering how this became his life and praying he doesn’t fuck the whole thing up.  </p><p>“That’s sterile, right?” Peter asks nervously, flexing his hands against the bench, and Tony can’t help but smile as he looks up.</p><p>“<em>Yes, dear</em>, it’s sterile.” <em>Okay, showtime.</em> He drags the knife across his left palm and watches as blood starts to well up, thick and red. Peter makes a wounded noise, tongue darting out to wet his lips.</p><p>He steps closer and Peter’s right hand jerks off of the bench for a moment, before he forcibly slams it back down. Tony can see his throat convulsing, his eyes going dark.</p><p>“Tony, please, I can’t-”</p><p>“Shh, yes you can,” Tony says. He takes another step. “I could restrain your hands, but I don’t think you need help to be good, do you?” Peter makes a whimpering noise at that, shaking his head. He’s already hard, without even being touched. He takes a few deep, gulping breaths, staring wide-eyed at Tony’s hand.</p><p>“No, I,” he says. “I can- I’ll be good.”</p><p>“Good,” Tony says. He closes the remaining distance in between them, crowding close, boxing Peter in against the bench. He braces himself with his right hand against the bench, and slowly brings the left one up over Peter’s face. Peter’s mouth is wet and open, panting hoarsely, and Tony can swear he can see the fangs extending as he watches. The steel bench crunches under Peter’s hands.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>,” Peter says, “please, please, please-” entire body straining towards him as if he’s tied down, as if he’s being restrained by anything other than the force of his own mind, his hands bone white with how hard he’s clutching the table. There’s sweat beading at his hairline.</p><p>“Look at you,” Tony says. He barely recognizes his own voice, scraped raw with desire. “Aren’t you polite?” Peter’s eyes are fixed, hanging onto his every word.</p><p>There is something very, very bad in Tony that’s addicted to the way that Peter gets so eager to please, like this. How sweet he gets, how desperate. He generally tries not to examine it too closely.</p><p>He pulls his hand higher, then a little higher, Peter’s head tipping back to follow it. He squeezes it shut, hard, ignoring the sting, and watches as fat droplets of blood slowly, slowly drip down into Peter’s mouth. When they hit his tongue his entire body jerks, teeth snapping on the air. He stares at Tony, eyes huge and black and mindless, nearly vibrating out of his skin. Tony pulls back a little.</p><p>“Okay?” he asks, quietly, rubbing a soothing hand down Peter’s side. “Need to tap out?” Peter takes a few deep, gulping breaths before shaking his head.</p><p>“I’m good,” he says, “I can take it. I want-” He swallows, audibly. “Can I- please, can I-”</p><p>“Of course you can,” Tony says. He tips Peter’s head back with his thumb and lets some more blood drip into his mouth, causing Peter to whimper with pleasure.</p><p>When Tony pulls back again Peter tries to follow him, making Tony take a step back. Peter surges forward to kiss him, shaky and desperate, and Tony has to clap a hand over his mouth to hold him in place.</p><p>“Ah-ah-ah,” he says. “Not with those teeth, you don’t.” Belatedly he realizes that he used his bloody hand, and watches with interest as Peter goes rigid, eyes huge, lips pressed tightly together so he can’t accidentally get a taste without permission. He makes a high, pleading noise in the back of his throat.</p><p>Tony shifts his hold so the meat of his hand between finger and thumb covers Peter’s mouth, fingers curling down to grab his jaw. Then he pushes, back and back and back, forcing Peter to brace himself on his elbows as he bends in half backwards over the table. His head tips back, exposing the long, pale line of his throat.</p><p>“If I let go, are you going to behave? Or do I need to muzzle you, too?” Tony asks. He can feel Peter flinch as he nods, his eyes going confused with an expression that broadcasts <em>what the fuck how is this something I’m into. </em>After all of the new kinks he’s given Tony it serves him right.</p><p> </p><p>Tony keeps him there and teases him like that endlessly, only giving Peter a few drops at a time, drawing it out further and further until there are tears in Peter’s eyes with how badly he needs it.</p><p>“Looks like you’ve passed phase one,” Tony says eventually, managing to sound faux serious even as he’s clinging to his own patience, trying not to give in and start fucking Peter until he’s actually crying. “Ready to proceed to phase two?”</p><p>“Always,” Peter says, smiling shakily, and Tony grins.</p><p>“Perfect,” he says, to watch Peter flush with pleasure, “you’re perfect.”</p><p>He pushes Peter’s shirt up to pet his fingers against the trembling flat plane of his stomach, feeling the hot, bare skin against his fingers. Peter flinches and twists into the feeling, always so obscenely oversensitive.</p><p>Slowly, slowly Tony undoes Peter’s jeans, slipping his hand inside and gently touching him through the fabric of his boxers. He pulls those down, too, as he strings Peter along with his blood, running his bloody thumb along his bottom lip but not letting him taste.</p><p>He leans in to kiss Peter, holding his jaw in place, gentle, chaste kisses against his closed, trembling lips, pulling back every time Peter tries to deepen it. He keeps a slow, deliberately maddening pace as he starts to stroke Peter’s cock. Peter hitches one leg up, curling around him, trying to get more friction, and Tony backs off even further, barely ghosting his thumb around the head. It’s wet at the tip. Tony’s sure Peter’s been right on the edge since nearly the moment they started.</p><p>“Seriously- come <em>on-</em>” Peter gasps out, with a frustrated little noise.</p><p>“Manners,” Tony says, and pinches the delicate skin of his inner thigh, making Peter snap his eyes shut and bite through his own lip, in that way he does to stop himself from coming.</p><p>“Sorry,” he says, low, and Tony presses a kiss to the wet skin at the side of one eye in forgiveness.</p><p>Peter doesn’t take his hands off the table.</p><p> </p><p>Tony’s own self control snaps before Peter’s does. He had been intending to ramp it up slowly, give him a little more blood at a time, but he’s going out of his mind with the way Peter is hitching his hips against his in a desperate, filthy grind, with the way Peter’s mouth looks, wet and swollen and dripping red. He wants to slap that look off of his face, and the intensity of the feeling scares him a little.</p><p>Instead he flips Peter around so he’s bent over the lab bench – or tries to. Peter’s hands don’t budge.</p><p>“Okay, honey, good job, you can let go-” he murmurs, and Peter finally lets go with a tiny little gasp. Tony turns him around, pushes him down, frantically half undressing as he does so, fumbling for the lube they’d had to start keeping the lab stocked with.</p><p>Tony doesn’t bother with prep, because when Peter gets like this he doesn’t want it. Tony fucks into him, sharp and fast, winds his uninjured fist in Peter’s hair and <em>grabs</em> just to hear Peter make that pleading, whimpering little noise of his again. He digs other hand into the slim line of Peter’s hip, leaving lurid bloody streaks up and down that pale, pale skin. Peter’s back arches obscenely as his fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth, cold surface of the lab bench, grabbing at the other edge. Tony fucks him harder, faster, until he’s making punched out little sounds on every breath.</p><p>Tony presses his lips against the side of Peter’s face, his ear, feels the jackrabbiting pulse underneath his skin.</p><p>“If you want any more,” he says, “you’re going to have to ask very, very nicely.” Peter’s face crumples like he’s in pain.</p><p>“Please?” he asks.</p><p>“Mmm,” Tony says, shivering with pleasure, kissing his throat. He shifts angles, pulling Peter’s hips up higher, and knows by the noise Peter makes that he’s hit his prostate perfectly.  “Beg for it.”</p><p>A piece of the bench breaks off in Peter’s hand.</p><p>“Please, <em>please </em>Mr. Stark, I’ll- I’ll be good, I just, I need it, sir, <em>please-</em>” Peter voice cracks hard, going high and pleading, like he really is going to start crying. His head drops forward, hanging in Tony’s grip, as he pants against the table.</p><p>“<em>God</em>, okay,” Tony says, panting. “Overachiever.” He mouths at the trembling line of Peter’s neck. He switches hands, using his unbloodied one to clutch at the pale, soft skin of Peter’s inner thigh, pulling his legs apart further. He presses the bloody one in front of Peter’s face. “Good boy, there you go.”</p><p>“Thank you, <em>thank you</em>,” Peter says, before sinking his teeth in so deep Tony sees stars. Peter’s entire body shivers as he does, coming hard, and Tony can’t tell if it’s from the feeding or the praise he’s whispering into Peter’s ear.</p><p> Tony breathes through the pain, takes it, lets it build, rides the edge of it to completion. He presses his face against Peter’s back as comes, hips stuttering, vision whiting out for a second. He’s not sure Peter even notices, judging from the helpless, blissed out noises he makes as he feeds.</p><p>After catching his breath, Tony walks them both over to the nearby couch, Peter still attached face-first to his hand. He slumps down on it, boneless, pulling Peter on top of him. He closes his eyes and waits for Peter to finish, gently running his free hand through Peter’s sweaty, tangled hair.</p><p>When Peter finally pulls off with a contented sigh and starts to seem like he’s coming back to himself, Tony mumbles “See? You do have self control.”</p><p>Peter laughs breathlessly.</p><p>“Yeah, more than you, apparently,” he says. “Okay. You’re right. You win, I’m not secretly going to turn into a bloodsucking monster.” He sounds blissfully exhausted.</p><p>“Mmmhm,” Tony says, equally exhausted. He’s pretty sure he’s going to fall asleep in about two minutes. At this point there’s a nonzero chance when he’s dies it’s going to be from his heart giving out in the middle of a sex marathon as he’s trying to keep up with Peter’s superpowered libido.</p><p>“But I still shouldn’t be making you pass out like that-”</p><p>“Wow, the post-coital glow lasted thirty whole seconds this time,” Tony says, opening his eyes back up to see Peter making an adorable, stubborn little frowning face. “Okay, fine, you win too. We can work on it. Maybe some sort of super low-voltage taser, just to get your attention? Just in case.” The schematics are already floating behind his eyes despite his exhaustion, expanding with complexity every second. He could have a prototype ready before the next feeding, easily.</p><p>“Just in case,” Peter says, relieved smile on his face, like what he really needed was just to trust that Tony will rein him in if it ever comes to that.</p><p>Huh. Tony might actually be doing okay at the whole relationship thing, this time around.</p><p>Peter fidgets and looks up at the ceiling.</p><p>“But also, you know, sometimes maybe you could, um,” he blurts out.</p><p>“Maybe I could um what?”</p><p>“The thing you said.”</p><p>Tony has, in his life, said quite a few things. He mentally rewinds the evening in his mind until – ah.</p><p>“A <em>muzzle</em>? Well, well, well, Mr. Parker, I’m scandalized.” He’s delighted. “You’re going to get a lovely Iron Man themed one.” Peter actually chokes on air at that. “Oh, you like that, huh?”</p><p>“You’re ridiculous. This is insane,” Peter murmurs, face buried in Tony’s shoulder, smiling.</p><p>“<em>This </em>is the best idea I’ve ever had,” Tony says, and he means the sexy experiments, or at least he thought he did, but it comes out all wrong – too soft and sweet, too much. He’s always too much. His thumb starts gently tracing the shell of Peter’s ear. Peter turns his face up to look at him, soft look in his eyes like he knows exactly what Tony’s saying, even if Tony doesn’t. He smiles.</p><p>“Yeah. Me too,” he says.</p><p> So - maybe this time, for once, ‘too much’ is exactly enough. But he’ll need some repeat data, just to be sure.</p>
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